When I was young I thought that at a certain age you knew certain things. You felt different. You saw things differently. You were older and therefor knew things that your younger self never understood. But what I’ve realized in the thirty-two years I’ve been on this planet is…as you get older you lose that certain sense of play. You loose your imagination. You sometimes forget to enjoy little moments, forget to breath in the air from the bakery on the corner, forget that in a city where people are moving too fast there are things of beauty all around you. When I was young I thought that things would be figured out when you’re older, you would know the secrets you couldn’t figure out when you were young. I find it all still a mystery, but one thing is for sure, I am still the same person I was when I was dancing around my house talking to imaginary friends.
I still dance, poorly, around my apartment. I still have imaginary friends from the characters I have created in the plays that I write, and the stories that are constantly flowing on paper. Last weekend I went down to my parents house to help them clear their garage. Nine years ago my parents were moving out of my childhood house at the same time I was moving to my first adult apartment in New York City. I couldn’t be bothered going through my childhood things with diligence and care like my older brothers, I had more important things to do…like proove to my older brothers that I was finally grown-up. So for nine years my belongings have been cluttering my parents house, and finally I made a committment to go through my things.
As I sat in their den surrounded by boxes and dust flowing in the air…I realized that I am on the path I’ve always been on. I looked through awards from the TV station I worked at in High School, Plays I wrote at the Papermill Playhouse, Newspaper articles of events I was involved in, I was the photography editor of the newspaper, student director of the musical, I won the Blood Sweat and Tears award Senior year from the TV station. I also saw my varsity letter from tennis, and an article in the newspaper mentioning how I was benched my junior year due to mono. I was exhausted just looking through all the papers, activities, things I kept because I felt they were important. Flash forward thirty-two years and I’m still exhausted thinking about all the things that I balance on a daily basis.
My current life is just as hectic, and filled with the same activities, minus the tennis. I miss sports. I was never amazing at sports, but I was decent, and it sure helped me stay in shape. I bought a Groupon for the YMCA near my apartment and have made a vow to start playing sports again. The real word in the sentence being “playing.” That’s why I did it when I was younger. I loved playing. I think I now associate working out with “working” which is not what is supposed to be.
I thought about a lot of my friends who have families, 9-5s, simpler lives, and I just can’t ever imagine my living being identified as simple. I just enjoy too much, I like to do too much, and I don’t know how to sit still. It was nice seeing that the things I enjoyed when developing into an adult have still crossed over in my world today. Now if only I could find the time to go on a few dates. But reading a valentine note from my date to the Homecoming dance-it seems like not much has changed in that area either. He wrote “You weren’t a bad Homecoming date, although you were busy off dancing with others, but here is more money wasted on you. Just Kidding. Happy Valentines Day!” It made me chuckle. Today I’m off to a good friends wedding, and I’m looking forward to taking the time out of my busy life, and dancing until my dogs start barking. Have a great Friday!
Thanks for reading!
Amye
